Wreck
by MidnightZoroark827
Summary: Arthur Kirkland will never be the same again. After he is released from a mental hospital, his whole life is full of depression, therapy, and isolation. When he meets a young man at his group therapy, he becomes intrigued. Alfred F. Jones- a perfect looking boy until you look at his arms. Arthur wasn't planning on saving anyone but himself, but Alfred just might change that.
1. Cut

_Summary: Arthur Kirkland will never be the same again. After he is released from a mental hospital, his whole life is full of depression, therapy, and isolation. When he meets a young man at his group therapy, he becomes intrigued. Alfred F. Jones- a perfect looking boy until you look at his arms. Arthur wasn't planning on saving anyone but himself, but Alfred just might change that._

 ** _EDIT: Okay, so I've gone back through these three chapters and fixed all of these grammar mistakes. I didn't go back and reread these chapters to fix them for reasons I'm not sure of. But, this should be much more enjoyable now! Chapter four is also on its way; I'm looking forward to it!_**

 _Scotland- Allistor  
_ _Ireland- Darcy  
_ _N. Ireland- Dylan  
_ _Wales- Floyd  
_ _Ancient Egypt- Bubastis_

 _Wreck_

 _Chapter One_

Arthur crossed his legs in an impatient way as he waited for his brother Allistor. He was hunched over slightly in an uncomfortable, wooden chair in the waiting room. Allistor was still talking to Arthur's therapist back in her office. Arthur had the choice to stay or go; there was no way he was going to stay.

The front door opened and a girl that looked a year or two younger than Arthur stepped inside. She had on a sweatshirt and jeans despite the hot weather outside. She looked tired and her posture was awful. An older woman rushed inside after her with wide eyes. Arthur rolled his eyes and looked away from the girl and her mother.

Little Creek's Therapy Office was not a place that children would go to on their own. They would either be forced to go here by a parent or, in Arthur's case, an older sibling.

The blonde teen straightened his posture and stared outside the clear window. Late afternoon sunlight was pouring into the waiting area, causing small dust particles to be noticed. The music that was being played over the speakers was nothing more than birdsong and a babbling brook. It was supposed to be soothing to the patients, but it just reminded Arthur of where he was...and why he was there. Arthur smiled very softly when he saw a bird land outside on the railing. It was a blue jay. Arthur loved blue jays; they always sounded so happy.

A hand touched his shoulder and startled Arthur right out of his thoughts. Allistor was standing over him with his usual crossed expression. "Ready to go?" His red eyebrows raised as he stared at his brother's shocked expression. "What's with you?"

Slowly, Arthur began to calm down. He cursed his stupid anxiety that made him scared when someone simply touched his shoulder. Yet again, Allistor should know that he didn't like being touched. Instead of reminding him of this, Arthur stood up. He turned his head to the door that led patients into the hall with their therapist's offices and saw his therapist standing there and smiling at him.

Her name was Bubastis, an Egyptian woman who was native from Egypt. Arthur didn't know much about her life outside of this except that she had a son whose name was Gupta. Bubastis gave him a wave but Arthur pretended like he didn't notice. He wasn't in the mood.

Allistor and Arthur walked outside into the hot, July sun. To Arthur's disappointment, the blue jay had flown away. The air was humid, yet held no promise of rain. Arthur loved the rain; it reminded him of his home in England. When the two brothers slid into Allistor's car, Allistor quickly stuck the key into the ignition and turned the AC onto maximum. Everything was quiet for the time being, with the exception of the AC. Arthur didn't mind this at all, in fact, he loved it.

But Allistor had to ruin it.

"How did it go this time?" The Scotsman asked as he drove out of the driveway.

"It went fine."

"That isn't-"

"I said it was fine."

"Don't fucking do that!" Allistor's outburst seemed to shock both of the brothers, even though they were both used to it. When Allistor came to the stop sign, he took a pack of cigarettes from the cup holder and slid one stick out. He pulled a lighter from his pocket and lit the white stick before he drove off once more.

Arthur waited until Allistor blew out a breath of smoke before he spoke up. "I'm not doing anything."

"Arthur, we promised each other that it wouldn't be like last year," Allistor said quietly, though Arthur could detect some annoyance in his voice. "I am not going through that again and neither are you."

The blonde boy could feel the hot tears gathering in his eyes. He never cried in front of people, but that didn't mean that the tears didn't want to spill. Arthur closed his eyes and rested his head against the cold window. Maybe...maybe if he just ignored Allistor, he wouldn't have to hear about his past sins anymore. But his brother seemed fixed on arguing.

"Hello? You can take a nap when we get home. Right now I want to know how your therapy went. And you will tell me, or so help me, I will send you back to Poplar Springs."

 _'No. Please, don't.'_ Arthur wanted to scream, he wanted to kick, wanted to cry. But he couldn't; he was just too tired. He opened his eyes and concentrated on the trees that they were passing along with the occasional house or store. He took a deep breath of smoky air and turned his head back to the front.

"It went okay. We talked about some different methods I could use to stop thinking about suicide." There it was; that awful word that so many parents and teachers wished that children would never have to think about. A child was too young, too innocent, to be thinking about wanting to leave this nightmarish place called life. For Arthur, suicide was something he thought about on a daily basis. It wasn't as bad as it had been before, but it was still there, lingering in his mind even when he was having a good time- whatever that is.

Allistor gave a small nod of approval. He took the cigarette out of his mouth so he could speak. "What were some of those methods?"

Arthur pressed his fingers together before lacing them together, like he was holding someone else's hand. _'Yeah, right.'_ "Listening to music, going on a walk, and talking to you or whoever."

There was a small, grunt of approval that came from Allistor. "Those sound like good methods. But you have to be willing to do those things. I mean, you never talk to anyone, Artie." Allistor made a turn onto a road that was surrounded by nothing but trees. Arthur blinked several times as he stared at the dense greenery. He loved forests. It reminded him of his childhood, when he would go and play with his imaginary friends. Such simple times. He closed his eyes once again and blocked out his brother's words once again, but five, small words seemed to shatter everything.

"…start going to group therapy."

 _No!_

Arthur opened his eyes and stared at Allistor as if he had three heads. "What? I don't need to go to group therapy!" Group therapy meant talking to strangers, it meant telling every stranger in that room what was wrong with him. That was his living nightmare. It was bad enough telling Bubastis; he didn't think he would be able to do it with a group.

"Arthur, you need every little bit of help you can get," Allistor snapped before he took another drag. He blew out the smoke, and Arthur tried hard not to gag. "Didn't you guys do group therapy at Poplar Springs?"

The blonde Brit hugged himself tightly as he was pulled back into the past of when he was at Poplar Springs. The patient that he roomed with would cry non-stop and scream at nothing; the ever-present smell of bleach; the awful feeling of waking up to white walls and white sheets. They did offer group therapy there, but Arthur did not go. He was in such a catastrophic state that the nurses decided individual therapy would be better for him.

"I never went," he choked out.

Allistor sighed rather loudly. "Well, I believe its about time for a change. You will feel a thousand times better once you've talked to these people! You might even make a friend or two. They'll go to your school, I'm sure."

"You know I suck at making friends," he mumbled.

"You're friends with Francis."

 _Francis_. The only friend Arthur had ever truly known. When he moved to America from England, they had moved into the house next to the Bonnefoy residence. Francis was a year older then Arthur, but that hadn't mattered. Though Arthur had hated the boy as soon as he had seen him, he had proved to be a great friend. Francis had been the one that had found him in the bathtub, bleeding...dying. Francis had been the one next to him in the ambulance, had been the only one Arthur had wanted to see when he woke up in the hospital.

They were best friends. But just because they were that didn't mean that Arthur spilled his guts out to the Frenchman. Arthur drew in a deep breath. "That's different."

"Well, this is different, too. Bubastis gave me this number, and I'm going to call to schedule an appointment." Allistor made a turn down into a subdivision. They were almost home.

Arthur let out a shuddering sigh and gripped his other hand so tightly that his knuckles turned white. There was no way he was getting out of this, his brother was too stubborn for that. Arthur said nothing more for the rest of the way home.

When Allistor pulled up into the driveway, their youngest brother Peter was standing right up under the large oak tree in their yard. A couple moments later, Floyd was standing next to him. How he had gotten up in that tree was beyond Arthur's imagination. The Briton got out of the car and made his way towards the porch.

"Hey, Artie!" Floyd called, waving a muscular arm to his brother. "Wanna play with me and Pete here?"

Arthur glanced at Floyd and gave a simple shake of his head. He ignored the hurt feeling that was shining in Floyd's green eyes and walked inside. _'Screw him and his hurt feelings! He's leaving all of us to join the stupid military!'_

Ever since Arthur was a little kid, Floyd had always been the classic big brother. He was kind and had always played with Arthur. Whenever Arthur was getting picked on, Floyd would simply crack his knuckles and step in. They had done just about everything together, from fairy hunting to going to reenactments of Shakespeare's plays. Then their mum had died.

Arthur let out a small sigh and walked upstairs. They lived in a house that was large enough for six people- their mother had been quite wealthy, so when she passed, money hadn't been much of a problem. It was going to feel strangely empty here with Floyd gone, and then next summer, Dylan and Darcy would be moving out. Arthur had a feeling they were going to study in Ireland. It would just be him, Allistor and Peter after that.

Finally, Arthur made it into his bedroom. The only interesting things in his room were three bookshelves filled with books, a large Union Jack hanging from the wall, and a wall of pictures next to his bed. The pictures were either of him and Francis when they were younger or of his family when they were still in England. He used to love taking pictures, and even though he had been small when he liked to take them, they were rather good.

Arthur laid down on his bed and curled up into a small ball. His phone, which he had left lying on his bed, was buzzing several times, indicating that he had a message. He lazily lifted an arm and picked it up. He had one missed message from Francis.

 **Francis: I noticed that you're home. Did everything go okay?**

 **Arthur: No. The ginger wants me to go to group therapy tomorrow. Kill me.**

 **Francis: You know I would never…But maybe this can be good, non?**

 **Arthur: You know I hate talking about my problems.**

 **Francis: I wouldn't call them problems. They are more like obstacles that you have to get over before your life can really start!**

 **Arthur: Thank you, Dr. Phil.**

 **Francis: Oh, haha.**

 **Francis: I wish I could come over later, but we're leaving for Paris tomorrow morning at four.**

 **Arthur: You're leaving me? D:**

 **Francis: Oui! I'll be back in a week!**

 **Arthur: Bring me a snow globe.**

 **Francis: Will do.**

Arthur leaned over to grab his earbuds that were lying on his nightstand. He stuck them into his phone and scrolled through his songs. He chose a song by Ed Sheeran, and then curled back up into a tight ball. He pulled the sleeves of his over-sized hoody up so he could look at his disgusting scars. Ragged, white skin was on his wrist and forearms, proof of what he had once done.

 _You should do it again,_ a voice seemed to whisper in his head. Arthur closed his green eyes. He was stronger than that, right? He wouldn't succumb to those voices he had tried to ignore. _You're a worthless piece of garbage that has no use for living. Who cares if you damage more of your ugly skin?_

The song changed to "Alone Again, Naturally" by Gilbert O'Sullivan and Arthur's heart nearly stopped. This was the song he had been listening to when he had learned about his mother's death. Why he still listened to it was beyond him. A sickening feeling rolled around in his stomach, and he was suddenly in England again, sitting outside in the veranda, reading. The song was peacefully playing next to him. Life was perfect.

Then Floyd had come running outside, saying they needed to get to the hospital now. It was all a blur after that.

Yes, perhaps he did need to cut himself.

Numbly, Arthur stood up and walked out of his room and into the bathroom. He blindly pulled Allistor's razor out of the closet and placed the blade over his arm. He needed to this. He was disgusting, stupid, a bloody waste of space. Who could ever love someone like him?

Arthur didn't even feel the sharp sting of pain as he sliced his skin. It wasn't near his veins, it wouldn't kill him. There weren't any tears; he was just tired. Tired of living in his own broken, scarred skin. A single tear did escape him, though. It slid down his cheek and mixed with the bloody mess on his forearm.

Blood dripped onto the floor, but it wasn't a concern to him. He would simply clean it, just like he would clean this mess on his arm up. One more slice, just one more cut for good measure. The pain hit him like a train and he recoiled in shock. With gritted teeth, Arthur washed the razor blade off and placed it back in the closet before he unrolled some toilet paper and kneeled down to clean the floor.

If only he could wipe away the scars on his arms has well, along with the scars on his heart.

* * *

 _A/N: First chapters are always the worst. I feel so sorry for Arthur; no one this young should have to go through this! But he's going to meet Alfred in the next chapter; the hero will fix this!_


	2. Alfred

_A/N: Thanks to everyone whose read my story so far! This chapter will be much longer then the first one and Alfred's in it! Enjoy, please._

 ** _EDIT: Okay, so I've gone back through these three chapters and fixed all of these grammar mistakes. I didn't go back and reread these chapters to fix them for reasons I'm not sure of. But, this should be much more enjoyable now! Chapter four is also on its way; I'm looking forward to it!_**

 _Scotland- Allistor  
Wales- Floyd  
N. Ireland- Dylan  
Ireland- Darcy_

 _Wreck_

 _Chapter Two_

The building wasn't that impressive. It had a couple of windows here and there, and there was a large work of graffiti on the side. Arthur grimaced. This is all just bloody great. Floyd was the one who had driven him to his group therapy since Allistor was at work. The brunette cleared his throat slightly and turned the radio down.

"Do you want me to walk in with you?"

Arthur huffed. "I think I can find my way in."

Floyd stared at Arthur with hurt shining in his green eyes. "Arthur, I-" Arthur bit his bottom lip and slammed his hands down on his lap in frustration. "I'm sorry, okay?! But I can walk in by myself! I'm not a bloody child!"

He hadn't meant to snap at Floyd like that, but he was angry and annoyed. He hadn't gone to bed until four in the morning last night and he had to leave at seven-thirty to get to this stupid appointment by eight. His arm was burning, and his heart hurt. So much for him getting better. Floyd said nothing as his younger brother calmed down from his small outburst. Finally, when Arthur was feeling a little bit better, he murmured, "I'm going to go now."

Floyd smiled at him. "Alright, Artie. I'll be here to pick you up. Then, if you're feeling up to it, I can take you to that little bookstore down the street; it actually isn't far from here!"

Arthur knew Floyd was trying, and that only made him feel worse. He forced a small smile before he got out of the car and closed the door. The air was humid and smelled of pollution. He pulled at his large, green sweatshirt in an uncomfortable manner as he walked up to the door. He could feel Floyd's eyes on him and he huffed in irritation. Could he not do anything without someone watching him?

He opened the door and glanced around the room. Children's art hung up on the wall and a TV was right about that playing some cartoon. There were two people sitting in chairs, waiting to be called. Arthur walked up to the receptionist sitting at the desk. He tried his hardest not to flee when he saw the visiting hours posted on the wall. Patients were trapped here…

"Uh, hi," he said tightly. "I have group therapy today."

The woman sitting behind the desk seemed bored with her job and simply pointed a long, red fingernail to a door in the back of the waiting room. "Straight through there, second door to your right."

Without bothering to say thanks, Arthur walked away to the door. His heartbeat seemed to thud in his ears like a drummer spastically hitting his drums. He pushed the door opened and winced when it slammed shut. There were in-house patients here…they were trapped here, wanting to leave and go home.

' _Snap out of it, Arthur,'_ he thought to himself. This wasn't even Poplar Springs and this was August, not May. He was no longer an in-house patient anywhere. He straightened his shoulders and held his head high as he walked down the hall. Yes, that's right! He was healthier than all of these people in here, he didn't need doctors or nurses to check on him every day.

 _Oh, yeah? Then why were you cutting yourself yesterday?_

He ignored the voice.

Arthur, now standing right in front of the door, gripped the cold, metal handle so hard that his knuckle turned white. It would be now or never. Pushing down his growing anxiety, he opened the door. Heads turned to face him and a few eyes narrowed. Arthur felt vulnerable standing at the door all alone. Oh, why did he let Allistor sign him up for this?!

" _Hallo,_ Arthur! Glad you could make it!"

 _Gilbert Beilschmidt_. Why was that lunatic greeting Arthur like he was in charge of the thing? Arthur carefully made his way over to the circle of chairs. "H-hello, Gilbert. I'm surprised to see you here."

Gilbert chuckled. "As most of these awesome people are! Come on, sit down next to this fine young man right here!"

He was pointing to an empty seat next to a boy that looked about Arthur's age. He looked like the classic, All-American boy with tan skin, blonde hair, and blue eyes. He was wearing jeans and a shirt that had the American Eagle logo on it along with a varsity football jacket on. He caught Arthur's gaze and smiled widely. Arthur's heartbeat sped up just a tad, and he inwardly cursed himself. So, what? He was going to sit next to an amateur looking guy; big deal!

Arthur walked over to the chair and took a seat without much as another look at the boy. It was strange, though. The boy didn't look like he belonged here, not with his football jacket on. He looked, well, like someone whose life would be pretty good.

Gilbert clapped his hands together and pulled Arthur right out of his thoughts. "Now that everyone is here, I would like to start this awesome meeting off by introducing myself. As many of you know, I am Gilbert Beilschmidt. I graduated from Eastview High School in June, and now I'll be going to NYU for college..."

Arthur didn't bother to listen to the rest of Gilbert's life. The two hadn't talked much at school, but Gilbert had been a very good friend of Francis. But the fact that he was running this therapy? Arthur wasn't sure how serious this was going to be taken. Blue eyes flickered towards Arthur. The Brit turned his head to look at the boy he was sitting next to. The boy's eyes were traveling over Arthur's body and his eyebrows were knit together in concentration, like he was trying to figure something out.

Immediately, Arthur fixed a deadly glare on him. The boy met Arthur's eyes, but he didn't shy away from him. Instead, he smiled and gave a small wave. The nerve of him! Arthur already didn't like this guy. Yet, there was something about him…something mystical about him, if you want to put it that way. Arthur's features relaxed, but he did look away. He wasn't so sure that he liked this feeling.

"Now!" Gilbert exclaimed from the middle of the circle. "I want you all to tell me a thing or two about you! Don't worry, I just want your name, something interesting about you, and why you're here."

"What?" a boy with dark brown hair snapped.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. This boy looked familiar; he was almost hundred percent sure this boy went to his school. The boy's amber eyes were shooting daggers at Gilbert. "I'm not going to tell these strangers about why I'm here!"

Gilbert tilted his head to the side with a playful smile on his face. "But _we're_ not strangers! You're really good friends with Antonio Carriedo!"

"I'm not friends with that bastard."

Gilbert smirked, but he quickly wiped it off his face and replaced it with a gentle smile. "Lovino has made a good point. A lot of you might be uncomfortable sharing things with strangers, but we all are doing this for a similar reason, right? I'll go first; my name is Gilbert Beilschmidt. I love to draw and read in my spare time, and the reason why I'm doing this is because I have suffered from manic depression and anxiety all my life."

Oh. Arthur never knew that. A small, tiny smile graced his lips. _'So that's why Francis is so patient with me. He's helped Gilbert with his own problems!'_

"Why don't we have Lovino go?" Gilbert asked, smiling at the Italian.

Lovino glared at Gilbert before he began to talk. "I'm-"

" _Nein!_ Stand up; be loud!" the albino interjected.

Lovino let out a frustrated groan and stood up. He crossed his arms tightly around himself and looked down at the floor. "I'm Lovino Vargas. Uh, I guess an interesting thing about me is that I lived in Venice up until I was thirteen. And I have a bipolar disorder and depression."

Gilbert pointed to the next person sitting next to Lovino, and they stood up. By the time they made it to Arthur, he had realized that more than half of the people sitting in here are his classmates. But there weren't that many. There was a young freshman named Lili who suffered from awful anxiety; a Japanese boy named Kiku who suffered from the same along with different forms of depression; a boy that Arthur thought was Norwegian named Lukas who suffered from schizoaffective disorder; and, finally, a boy known as Ivan. He said he only had some kind of depression, but he seemed so…sad, even though he was smiling.

Arthur let out a small sigh before he stood up. He kept his eyes on the back of the room. "My name is Arthur Kirkland. I love to read books; my favorite would have to be _Pride and Prejudice_. I suffer from anxiety and depression." He let out a small sigh once again when he sat down. That wasn't too bad. Maybe he was getting better after all!

The only person that left was the boy sitting next to Arthur. He finally stood up with a wide smile on his face. "Nice to meet everyone! I'm Alfred F. Jones! I love to play football, and I just moved here from Virginia. I have PTSD, so obviously I have some depression and anxiety."

The only person who cracked a smile was Gilbert. Arthur didn't find it all that funny, and he wasn't too sure why Alfred was trying to be light-hearted about this. Alfred sat back down and smiled at Arthur for the third time. Arthur looked away. He was pretty surprised that someone as young as Alfred was suffering from PTSD. That was what soldiers usually got.

' _He must have had something awful happen in his life.'_

"Alright, now that we know everyone's name, I'm going to put you into pairs," Gilbert said. "Since we're at an odd number, I will have to work with one of you. I want you to get to know your partner better, and make them aware of what you're having to face. Okay, Kiku, you can work with me; Ivan and Lili, Lovino and Lukas, and Arthur and Alfred."

Arthur rolled his eyes. Yes, he felt sorry for Alfred. No, that did not mean he wanted to work with him. In fact, the only person who seemed happy with their partner was Ivan. And Alfred. Arthur had a feeling he would smile at anything.

Alfred outstretched his hand which puzzled Arthur. "Hi, Arthur. My name's Alfred."

Arthur simply stared at his larger hand for a moment before he brought up his own hand to shake Alfred's. "Hello?" The blonde haired American winked. "Now we've officially met."

Something inside of Arthur stirred, but his annoyance pushed it down. Really, did this guy think this was all a joke? Arthur pulled his hand away and set it on his thighs. "So, you're new here?"

Wow, way to make small talk.

Alfred nodded. "That's right! So far, I'm not too impressed. I thought New York was supposed to be exciting but nothing has happened."

Arthur arched an eyebrow. "Well this isn't exactly Queens."

Alfred laughed, and it was loud and obnoxious and pure. Arthur couldn't help but be surprised; what he had said really wasn't that funny. Alfred calmed down slightly and wiped an invisible tear from the corner of his eye. "Ah, you're funny!" Really, now, he wasn't. Alfred just seemed to find everything hilarious.

Arthur glanced around the room and noticed that everyone else seemed to be making okay-conversation. That's what you get when you pair of anxious, depressed teenagers. He turned back to Alfred. "Where in Virginia did you come from?" he asked politely, crossing his ankles together. "You would've never heard of this place," the blonde replied. "It's a small little county called Amelia."

"You're right, I've never heard of that."

"And what part of England are you from?"

"Hampshire."

"Like New Hampshire?"

"Well, no. This is the original Hampshire."

Alfred laughed quietly once again and rubbed the back of his head. "Right, I knew that." It was a little awkward after that. Arthur sighed inwardly and pulled out his phone. There was just ten minutes left. Gilbert must have also been aware of this because he stood up and clapped his hands. "We seem to be running out of time. At the next meeting, I want you to bring your partner a gift, something you'll _know_ they will like. I might as well let you guys out early; have a great, safe ride home."

Arthur didn't hesitate getting up. He left the room and quickly made his way back into the waiting room. The whole "group therapy" was kind of stupid. They stood up, said their problems, and then sat back down. Maybe Gilbert was trying to show them that they weren't alone. Arthur walked outside and felt a groan rise in his throat. Floyd wasn't there.

The door opened again and the others walked outside. Lovino accidentally- though Arthur wasn't so sure- shoved Arthur with his shoulder as he stalked past him. He walked over to a black Fiat and disappeared into the passenger's seat.

Arthur leaned against the brick wall and ran a hand through his hair. His stomach growled loudly and he quickly hugged himself, willing it to stop. He hadn't eaten dinner nor breakfast, so he was pretty hungry. He watched silently as Lukas and Kiku walked out, each heading towards different cars. Ivan and Lili were talking about something as they walked out. They looked rather odd together with the Russian boy towering over the petite girl.

Lili paused and quickly glanced at Arthur. "Uh, i-it was very nice to meet you!"

Before Arthur could say anything, she dashed off to where a boy was standing in the parking lot. Arthur knew him as Vash; they were in the same personal finance class last year. Ivan smiled at Arthur, a sweet smile that didn't seem to carry up to his eyes. "I look forward to seeing you again, Arthur." He began to hum a song as he walked towards his own car.

What an odd group of people. A hand clasped Arthur's shoulder, making him cry out. "It's just me!" Alfred exclaimed, taking his hand away from Arthur. "I didn't mean to startle you!"

Arthur glared at Alfred to hide his own embarrassment. Really, now? Why did he have to cry out like that? "I don't appreciate being touched."

A soft look settled on Alfred's face, and he turned away from Arthur. "Right. I don't like being touched, either."

Arthur stared at the American with eyebrows knit together. What was with this boy? He just went from a happy, go-lucky man to, well, sounding all mysterious. But it wasn't his place to judge. In fact, he actually felt bad for Alfred. He had never met anyone with PTSD, and he didn't know much about it. The only thing he did know was that the people who were diagnosed with it had a traumatic event happen in their life. Not all scars are visible, after all.

He cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the parking lot. "So, is your ride running late, too?"

Alfred seemed to brighten ever so slightly from the change of topic. "Actually, I have to walk home. My mom's at work and took the only car with her." Arthur narrowed his eyes. "You'll certainly melt in those clothes. Aren't you hot now?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Alfred had a teasing look on his face, showing that he wasn't being rude. Arthur looked down at his own attire. With his baggy sweatshirt and blue jeans, it certainly looked like he was dressed for autumn instead of summer. He scowled. "I'm not walking home."

His phone buzzed in his back pocket. He took it out and noticed he had a missed message from Floyd. It read: **Sorry, Artie! Gonna be a little late. You can go ahead and go to that bookstore if you want. Txt me what you'll do!**

Annoyance burned beneath Arthur's skin. What could Floyd be doing that was so important that he couldn't come pick his little brother up? "I'm going to go to the bookstore down the street," the Brit announced. "I'll, uh, see you next week?"

Alfred simply nodded, though he looked like he wanted to say more. Arthur walked into the parking lot just as Alfred shouted, "Wait!" He jogged up to Arthur and gave him a hopeful look. "Can I come with you? I haven't seen any bookshops around here and I would love to see one!"

Arthur arched an eyebrow at this American football player. "Honestly, you read?"

A sneaky look passed over Alfred's face and he leaned a little closer to Arthur. The Brit took a step back. He didn't like to be too close to people. "'I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library!'"

It took all of Arthur's willpower to stop himself from gasping. He was flabbergasted. "Did you just quote…"

" _Pride and Prejudice_?" Alfred asked with a smile on his face. "Yes, I think I did."

Arthur let out a quiet sigh. There weren't many teenage boys walking around, quoting his favorite book. He might as well let Alfred accompany him. "Alright, let's go."

"Hell yeah!"

Arthur quickly replied to Floyd's text and told him he was going to the bookshop. Walking side-by-side, the two boys talked about all the classic books they had read, which ones they liked, and which ones they didn't like. Arthur found out that Alfred's favorite book was a book that he had never read before.

"How could you not have read _Gone with the Wind_?" the American demanded. "That book is just…just…too awesome for words!"

"Truth be told, the American Civil War doesn't interest me all that well." Arthur pressed his thumbs together as he spoke. "But, I will push through my own feelings to read it."

Alfred beamed. "Well, I think I know what I'll be getting you for our group therapy gift!"

Arthur scoffed and rolled his eyes. The two walked up to the crosswalk where a few people were waiting to go. "You don't have to get me anything. I think it's silly to get a stranger a gift!" The crosswalk changed to green and they began to move. Alfred was quiet for a moment. "I don't think we're strangers anymore. I know a lot about you."

Arthur raised an eyebrow and glanced at Alfred quizzically. "You don't know me at all."

"Sure I do! I know your name is Arthur Kirkland and that you're from Hampshire. You love to read adventure, fantasy, and romance novels, and your favorite is _Pride and Prejudice_." Alfred seemed quite proud of how much he knew, which really wasn't much.

They had made it on the other side of the street where the bookstore was. Arthur stopped and gave Alfred a funny look. "Have you already forgotten about my mental illnesses?"

Alfred blinked once before he laughed that pure, carefree laugh. "Oh, Arthur! I don't see that as a characteristic of you! In fact, I did forget about it. I think that when you start talking about things you love, you forget about your depression and anxiety."

Arthur didn't know what to say.

The two walked into the bookshop, and they were immediately greeted by the smell of old books and coffee. There was one or two people looking around the small place, but other than that, it was empty. A boy with shoulder length brown hair smiled at them. "Welcome! Oh- hello, Arthur."

Arthur gave the teenager an awkward wave. "Hello, Toris."

Toris Laurinaitis was one of Arthur's few friends. They weren't great friends, but the Brit still considered them friends, acquaintances at least. They both shared a love for reading and Shakespeare. Arthur hadn't seen much of the native Lithuanian since he was put in Poplar Springs back in May. In fact, he only saw and heard from him when he came to this bookshop.

"Hey!" Alfred exclaimed rather loudly, which caused several people to turn around and glare at the disruptive man. "Names Alfred!" He outstretched his hand. "I'm new around here."

Toris seemed startled by this sudden greeting but after a moment, he took Alfred's hand and shook it. "It's nice to meet you, Alfred." Toris glanced at the back of the store where a woman was walking up to the counter. "I have to go; you two have a nice time!" He then hurried off to help the woman.

"I'm assuming he goes to your school?" Alfred asked.

Arthur nodded. "Mmhm. He's most likely going to be in my DE English class this year…we both love to write." Alfred wrinkled his face at either the mention of writing or school. Or both. "I'm not the biggest fan of writing. I'm more of a science and math guy."

Arthur, who was walking towards the romance section, nodded slightly. "I'm the complete opposite. I'm an English and history person myself."

Alfred said something in reply, but Arthur didn't catch it. He was now on the hunt for a good book. He was in the middle of skimming through a book by John Green- one of his favorite authors- when the door opened once again. Arthur only glanced up when he saw Floyd looking around for him. He was notably surprised when he felt disappointment stab at his heart. He put the book down and walked over to his brother.

"Hi."

Floyd smiled warmly at him. "Ready to go?"

"Give me a minute." He walked over to where Alfred was leaning against the wall with a book in his hands. He looked up only when Arthur was practically standing right in front of him. "My brother's here; I'm going to go," Arthur announced. Disappointment flashed across Alfred's face, but it vanished as fast as it had appeared. "Okay!" His bright smile turned into a sheepish one as he added, "uh, do you think I can get your number?"

Arthur's eyes widened ever so slightly. Alfred wanted _his_ number? The Brit swallowed the warm feeling that was blooming through his chest and simply nodded. "Sure." He waited until Alfred had pulled out his phone to give him his number. Alfred put his phone back in his pocket and grinned.

"Thanks, Arthur. I'll see you next week."

"Goodbye, Alfred."

The Brit turned on his heel and walked back to Floyd, ignoring his brother's amused and inquiring stare. The two walked outside and over to the car that was parked on the other side of the street. Nothing was said until Floyd started the car.

"So, how was therapy?"

This whole conversation again. It was just with another person. Irritation, anger, annoyance, and many other emotions bubbled up inside of Arthur. Why couldn't someone ask him a normal question? Why did it have to be about therapy or doctor visits? He thought he was about to scream when his phone began to ring. He was going to ignore it, but it felt like something was tugging him towards the phone, like he needed to pick it up.

He dug it out of his pocket. It was only an unknown number. Still, he answered it.

"Hello?"

" _It's just Alfred. I wanted to make sure you didn't give me some BS number."_

In that moment, Arthur's heart began to pound. Why did it seem like Alfred wanted to be friends with him so badly? And he began to laugh. Truly laugh. Maybe he had finally found someone who would be his friend…be the friend that understood what he was going through. From the corner of his eye, Arthur saw Floyd smiling at the road, seeming content.

"I'm not that mean."

* * *

 _A/N: Sorry to say that they won't be getting together anytime soon. They have a lot of adventures to go on together, though! And does anyone else love the idea of Lili and Ivan being close friends? It's like Beauty and the Beast, but without the romance. I hope everyone enjoyed! More fluff and yaoi to come!_


	3. Two

_Scotland- Allistor  
Wales- Floyd  
N. Ireland- Dylan  
Ireland- Darcy  
Charlotte- Wy  
Jett- Australia  
Toby- New Zealand _

_Wreck_

 _Chapter Three_

Arthur moaned quietly when he heard someone knocking on his door. "Go away," he mumbled weakly before curling up into a ball. But the person refused to leave. They kept knocking until they finally gave up and just opened the door. "Wake up!" the annoying voice belonging to Dylan all but screamed. "Ya gotta tell Floyd goodbye, don't ya?"

No. In fact he doesn't. When he didn't reply, he heard Dylan sigh. "Fine. You asked for this." He walked into Arthur's room and pulled the blinds up. Sunlight spilled into the once dark bedroom, and shined right into Arthur's eyes. He let out a soft groan but peeled his eyes open. "Okay," he grumbled. "Happy?"

"Honestly, I could care less." Dylan turned around and walked out of his younger brother's room. "Just hurry up and come downstairs, princess."

 _Princess._ Oh, how he hated that name. When they were all younger, Dylan, Allistor, and Darcy had all called him princess because _one time_ he went crying to his mother because he had fallen out of a tree and hurt his arm. They all called him princess because he needed help from his mom (god forbid). Since that day, Arthur vowed that he never needed anyone's help again. He could do everything for himself and by himself.

 _If that's true, then why do you need doctors and therapists?_ Arthur wanted to curl up again. The voice he had been hearing was speaking up more and more frequently. Maybe he should tell Bubastis. No. It would probably go away in time. He hoped.

Arthur finally dragged himself out of bed and stood up on the cold floor. He was wearing nothing but boxers and his green hoodie. He shivered slightly and slipped his feet into his slippers before he headed downstairs. He couldn't believe he had forgotten; today was the day that Floyd was leaving for boot camp. The Brit shivered for a whole different reason. He might not ever see his brother again.

When he walked into the living room, everyone else was already in there. Peter was clinging to Floyd's leg and seemed to be refusing to let go. Sadness and excitement buzzed in the air around Arthur, but he was just numb. Another person whom he truly cared about was leaving him. Things were going to change after this, he just knew it. Something was telling him that something bad was going to happen. He pushed the negative feeling down, or at least tried. _'I'm not physic; I'm sure everything will be fine.'_

Floyd was in the process of hugging Darcy when he noticed Arthur. He let go of his sister and gently pried Peter off of his leg before he walked over to him. Arthur simply crossed his arms and looked away. Floyd chuckled and leaned forward to hug Arthur. "You always were the stubborn one."

A feeling of dread settled over Arthur and he quickly took a step back. He didn't want to be touched…he couldn't be touched. It was too much. Just…no. He was met with different looks from everyone in the room. Peter was looking at him with confusion in his eyes; Allistor looked frustrated and maybe even sorrowful; and Darcy and Dylan just looked mad.

"Can't even hug your own brother?" Dylan sneered. Allistor smacked him upside the head. "Shut it, mate! This is about Floyd."

Floyd sighed quietly and seemed to force a smile. "It's okay, Artie. I understand. Be safe and remember, I love you very much." The brunette turned around to hug Allistor and Dylan, leaving Arthur to stare at the floor in anger. He was angry with himself and Floyd and Dylan. What kind of person was scared of hugging their own brother?

"Why didn't you hug Allistor?" Peter asked, tilting his head to the side.

Arthur looked down at the youngest of the Kirkland family. His blue eyes were round with curiosity; he had no idea why. Arthur suddenly felt tears prick his eyes. He didn't want Peter to grow up and be like him, but it was very well possible. Arthur and Peter were brothers while everyone else was their half-brother and half-sister. The only other two that were actually true siblings was Dylan and Darcy, who were twins. But since Peter was closely related to Arthur, that meant he could be diagnosed with depression later in life. The idea of it made him want to gag.

"Alright!" Floyd announced. "I'm off!"

He grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder before he made his way towards the door. Everyone else followed him. There was a taxi waiting outside that had come from the local fort, ready to take Floyd away. The man turned to smile at everyone. "I promise I'll write! I'll see you all during Christmas."

"Goodbye!" Allistor, Dylan, and Darcy all called in unison. Arthur and Peter silently watched him get into the taxi. He continued to wave until the taxi had disappeared down the road. Arthur turned around and walked back inside. Just like that.

Gone.

"Arthur, hold up." Arthur stopped and turned around to see Allistor walking towards him. "Peter is going over to his friend's house for a little playdate. You need to walk him over there."

The Brit groaned inwardly. He wanted to do nothing more than curl back up in bed and wake up in a couple of years. But he did care for Peter, and he was too tired to argue with Allistor. "Alright. Just let me get dressed and then I'll walk him over there. He's going to Charlotte's house; you know where that is, right?"

Arthur nodded and headed upstairs. Charlotte Walker, Peter's best friend. Arthur had met her and her father Jett last year during a school play that the elementary school had put on. Jett was young to be a father, only twenty-five. According to Allistor, during a one-night stand, Jett impregnated the girl. He didn't know about this until Charlotte showed up on his doorsteps nine months later with a note. Of course he freaked out, but he raised Charlotte on his own, and even moved to the US to put her in a safer environment.

Arthur actually liked Charlotte, and he wasn't even that big of a fan of kids, but Charlotte was a headstrong girl that was very mature for her age. Arthur was sure she would grow up into a lovely young woman.

When he walked into his room, the sun had warmed it up a little bit. He took his slippers off and left them by his desk. He glanced at the desk and stared at the book lying on it. His second group therapy session had been yesterday and Alfred presented him with _Gone with the Wind_. Arthur felt awful when he presented a poster of Captain America to his new friend. He was sure Alfred already had one, but the American had just smiled and said he loved it.

' _Perhaps I should start reading it once I get back.'_ A tiny smile formed on his lips from the thought. Yes, a day of reading sounding lovely. He tugged on a pair of khaki shorts along with his old tennis shoes. He didn't even bother to brush his hair, it was always turned out messy anyway. He walked out his room and headed downstairs once again.

Peter was impatiently pacing in front of the door. When he saw Arthur, he tugged his older brother out the door. "Hurry up! I want to see Charlotte!"

"Okay, okay. I'm coming," the Brit grumbled. He hadn't had time for his usual morning tea yet, so he was a little cranky. He squeezed his brother's hand when they walked onto the road, reminding him that he needed to hold his hand. This sort of touch, simple hand holding, he didn't mind. Besides, it was just Peter. Right. Innocent, little, annoying Peter. Arthur used to get so annoyed by him, but now he only pitied him. He was growing up without ever knowing the feeling of a mother's love.

Sure, Peter might remember when their mum was alive, but as he got older, he would forget. Allistor could only do so much for Peter, but he was no mother. He would try to chase away Peter's demons and make him follow his dreams. Would it be enough? A child needed a mother.

A child needed their mother.

Arthur needed his mummy.

"Arthur?" Peter's voice snapped him from his thoughts. "Why did Floyd leave? I asked Allistor, but he wouldn't tell me. He just said Floyd was very brave."

"Floyd left to become a soldier. He's going to serve Her Majesty the Queen in the United Kingdom," Arthur replied. When he put it that way, his brother did sound extremely brave and heroic. But also stupid and ridiculous. There was enough young men and women ready to defend the country _that they lived in._ God damnit, why did Floyd always have to be the hero?

Peter kicked a small rock in the road, and Arthur watched it fall into the sewer on the side of the road. "So he's going to kill people? Like the bad guys?"

Arthur grimaced. He hated thinking about sweet, strong Floyd shooting someone. "Let's hope not, okay?"

"Mr. Tino told me that soldiers are like super heroes!" Peter exclaimed with a little more enthusiasm. "Does that mean that Floyd could be like Superman or Batman?"

"Highly unlikely," Arthur muttered. _'There's no such thing as heroes.'_

Peter seemed to deflate for a moment until he began talking about some TV show he was obsessed with. Arthur didn't know much about it except that it had a yellow sponge and was _very_ American. They walked for about ten more minutes until they came upon a petite yellow house with a beautiful garden. A young man was outside washing his car while a small girl was in the process of following a butterfly. How quaint.

The girl noticed them first. A smile spread across her face and she waved happily. "Hello, Peter!" Arthur finally let go of his little brother's hand so he could run over to greet his friend. "Hey, Charlotte! Hi, Jett!"

The man known as Jett turned the hose off for a quick moment. "G'day, Peter!" His voice had a thick Australian accent. Arthur shifted, slightly uncomfortable to be standing here. It seemed like Jett was about to wave to Arthur, but something caught both of their attention. A man that seemed about two years younger than Jett walked outside. He had blondish-brownish hair with two curls on the sides that looked like cinnamon rolls. He was small, about the size of Arthur. Arthur had never seen this man before.

"Ah, Arthur. C'mere and meet my friend Toby!" Jett called, waving the Brit over. Arthur could do nothing but walk over there. He smiled kindly at the man. "Hello. I'm Arthur, and that's my younger brother Peter." He nodded his head to where Peter and Charlotte were playing tag. Toby smiled. "And I'm Toby. I've heard a lot about Peter; Charlotte seems very fond of him."

"Like two peas in a pod!" Jett laughed.

Arthur forced a small laugh. He then told Jett to tell Peter to call him when he was ready to come home. He had just made it down the drive-way when someone in the house in front of him walked outside which caused the door to slam shut. Arthur wasn't going to look up until a very familiar, very American voice called to him.

"Arthur?"

Arthur froze, and slowly picked his head up. Sure enough, there stood Alfred F. Jones. The blonde teenager waved and made his way over to Arthur. "You don't live there, do you?"

"Oh, uh. No. I was dropping my brother off for a little playdate." He leaned back slightly when Alfred made it so obvious that he was checking out Arthur's clothing. "Oh. Man, do you ever take that sweatshirt off?" Alfred laughed.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. Usually, when someone questioned him about this, he felt threatened and maybe a little scared. But not this time. It just seemed like Alfred was teasing him. Arthur looked up and down, looking over Alfred's clothing. He was wearing swimming trunks with about fifty Pikachu's on them along with a white muscle shirt. Arthur didn't want to stare, but Alfred really did have some nice muscles.

"And do you usually wear swimming trunks?"

Alfred laughed and shrugged. "In the summer, yeah! I was actually just about to go swimming; we have a pool." He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet for a moment while a look of question appeared on his face. "Maybe you want to…?"

Arthur quickly put his hands up. "N-no, thank you! I don't swim." Actually, he couldn't swim. He was never taught, nor did he want to be taught. "But, uh, thank you for the offer."

It may have been Arthur's imagination, but Alfred seemed to deflate slightly. "No, it's okay. But are you busy? It would be nice to hang out with you for a little." A small blush appeared on his face after he said that, but it could have just been his imagination. Again.

Arthur wanted to kick himself when he felt a tingle in his heart. So, what? Alfred and Arthur were friends, which meant they were going to hang out. So, why did Arthur feel so happy? Instead of smiling, he just shrugged. "Sure. Why not?" Alfred grinned widely and grabbed Arthur's wrist, but immediately let go. "Sorry! You don't like to be touched!"

"You remembered?" He couldn't help but sound surprised. His own family forgot about that at times! Alfred gave him an odd look. "Why wouldn't I? That's obviously important to you. Besides, friends don't forget about stuff like that."

 _Friends._ Yes, that's right. They were friends now. Arthur smiled softly and nodded. "Right, of course." It was quiet for a moment, the only sounds coming from Charlotte and Peter. Alfred broke the silence. "If you let me get dressed real quick, I can show you this awesome tree that I found! It's in the woods behind my house."

Even though Arthur was exhausted, he wanted to have fun with Alfred. "Brilliant. I'll wait out here." Alfred tilted his head to the side before a loud laugh came from his throat. "You can come inside and wait for me! Don't worry, my brother's the only one home."

"I-I don't want to intrude."

"It isn't intruding if I invite you in."

Arthur realized he wouldn't be able to win this battle. He sighed quietly and gave a curt nod before he followed Alfred across the street and into his house. The smell of something sweet was in the air, something smelled almost like pie, mixing with the smell of paint. The Brit glanced around the house, and was impressed to see that many things were unpacked. It looked like someone was in the process of painting the living room and faint yellow.

"I'll be right back!" Alfred called before making a dash upstairs.

Arthur wanted to call him back and order him to stay next to him, and don't leave him alone. The back door suddenly slammed shut and a couple moments later, a boy that looked almost just like Alfred walked into the living room. He was wearing shorts, a black shirt and an old red flannel that was unbuttoned. He paused when he saw Arthur, who gave an awkward smile and a little wave.

"Hi. I'm Alfred's…uh, friend." He really needed to work on his stuttering.

The boy stared at him for a moment longer before a small smile formed on his lips. "Are you Arthur Kirkland? Alfred did say he made friends with a British boy."

Arthur flushed from the fact that Alfred had told his family about him. "Yes. I would be him." The boy nodded and walked over. He had curly, blonde hair that was shorter than Francis's, and a long curl on the top of his head. He looked just like Alfred, besides the hair and eyes. He outstretched his hand. "I'm Matthew Williams, his twin brother."

Arthur stared at the hand for moment before he took it. "I'm sorry, I thought Alfred's last name was Jones." Matthew dropped his hand and pulled at his flannel slightly. "It is. This is our father's last name. I kept it while Alfred took our mother's maiden name."

Arthur wasn't going to ask about that. From the look in Matthew's eyes, it seemed that he didn't want to talk about it either. Matthew turned back around and walked further into the living room. "You'll have to excuse the mess. I promised Mom I would paint the living room today. Alfred is supposed to be helping me but," he flashed Arthur a smile. "It seems like you're stealing him."

Now Arthur flushed for a whole different reason. "I don't have to hang out with him! I could go home." Arthur felt embarrassment crash over him when Matthew chuckled quietly. "I'm teasing. I'm glad he's made a normal friend."

Arthur would have said he was anything but normal, but the sound of Alfred crashing down the stairs intuerupted him. Now he was wearing blue jeans and a Hollywood Undead sweatshirt. He grinned at Arthur. "I see you've met Matthew." Arthur nodded which Alfred smile even wider. "Awesome! Mattie, I'm going to take Arthur to that tree we found a couple days ago. See you later!" Arthur waved at Matthew, but he froze slightly when he saw Matthew wink at him. "Have fun."

' _What the hell was that all about?'_

The boys walked into the woods behind Alfred's house. It was cooler inside of the forest since there was so much shade. "I didn't know you knew Jett and Toby," Alfred said suddenly, somewhat surprising Arthur.

"Jett's daughter is best friends with my little brother," Arthur replied.

Alfred nodded slowly. "I thought that's who that boy was." He was quiet for a moment or two longer before he said, "You know Jett and Toby are dating?"

Arthur paused for a moment. He hadn't known that. "Oh. Good for them, then. I can say that I'm a bit surprised. I mean, Jett did have a girlfriend at a time. Or, at least, he slept with a girl."

"Maybe that was his way of seeing if he liked guys or girls." Alfred looked up at the canopy of trees. Faint sunlight was coming through, causing the leaves to dapple in the sun's rays. "You know, just a tester?"

Arthur glanced at Alfred with curiosity in his eyes. "You sound like you can relate to what he's done." He had to suppress his laughter when he watched Alfred's blue eyes nearly bulge out of his head. "I've never slept with anyone!" A small giggle did escape Arthur's lips, and he quickly brought a hand up to his mouth to cover it. "I'm sorry. I wasn't saying that you did sleep with anyone."

Alfred seemed to relax much more once that was cleared. "N-no, it's cool. But, I did date this guy back in Amelia to see…how it went." Arthur's heartbeat started to pick up just a tad, which made him want to slap himself. _'Stop acting like this!'_ "And how did that feel? Dating him, I mean."

"You sound like my therapist!" Alfred laughed.

Arthur blushed and immediately turned his head away. "S-shut up!" That obnoxious laugh…yet it was so full of life and happiness. Arthur desperately hoped it wasn't forced. Alfred calmed down after a moment and wiped an invisible tear from the corner of his eye. "I'm just teasing. But, actually, it felt pretty good. I didn't mind dating him, even though the people there were more or less against it." Alfred seemed to deflate for a moment after that. "And then…things happened."

The Brit could tell that something bad did indeed happen. Hesitantly, with a shaking hand, he raised his hand and placed it on Alfred's back. The American turned to stare at him with wide eyes. Arthur merely gave him a tiny smile. "Well, things are different here. People are a lot more accepting here."

Alfred smiled softly and gave him a small nod. "Awesome."

Arthur pulled his hand away, blushing slightly since it was still warm from touching Alfred. He cleared his throat before he spoke. "So, gay? Bi?"

"Bi. You?"

Arthur bit his bottom lip so hard that he was pretty sure that he almost drew blood. Never once had he told anyone of his sexuality. At least, he hadn't out loud. He had texted it to Francis, but that was it. Should he tell Alfred? He may have just told Arthur about his preference, but they barely knew each other! So Arthur had no idea what had compelled him to tell Alfred. "I prefer gentlemen, actually."

"Good for you!"

Arthur glanced up at Alfred and felt something run down his spine. Alfred was smiling at him and his too-blue eyes were glowing with something that Arthur couldn't quite place. He tore his gaze away from Alfred. "Now, where is this tree of yours?"

"Oh. Right up here!" Alfred, to Arthur's dismay, began to run towards the direction of the tree, an excited look in his blue eyes. The Brit groaned and tried to chase after him, but he wasn't nearly as fast as the other boy. It wasn't much longer until Alfred stopped in front of a huge oak tree. There were a few low branches that seemed easy to climb, if someone was to give Arthur a boost that is. Of course, Arthur wouldn't admit this to Alfred; he could find a way up by himself.

Alfred sprang up and grabbed hold of the low branch. Arthur tried not to stare at the fit American as he push himself up the branch. He outstretched his hand with both his legs clinging to the branch. "Come on." Arthur glared at the hand but he took it anyway. With Alfred's help, he managed to scramble on to the branch. He sighed quietly once he was sitting next to Alfred. "I could have made it by myself, you know."

Alfred swung one of his legs over so both his legs were hanging over the side of the branch. "I know. I was just trying to be helpful."

They grew quiet, watching the sun dapple the leaves and listening to cicadas. After a moment, Alfred spoke up, "Which classes did you sign up for this year?"

"Dual enrollment English and US history, trig, chemistry, intro to law, creative writing, and a violin class." The thought of school dampened Arthur's mood just a tad. He was not looking forward to the work nor was he looking forward to the people.

"Cool! We could be in the same intro to law and history class!" Alfred exclaimed.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What about trig and chemistry? Why can't we be in those classes together?" Alfred gave him a small smile. "Oh, I'm in AP data and statics and AP chem."

"How are you in that high of a math class?" Arthur demanded, shocked. Usually, that class was meant for seniors, especially smart teachers, and Alfred was only a junior along with him. "I'm really good in math and science," Alfred explained with a smug grin on his face. "You knew that, didn't you?" Arthur could vaguely remember Alfred telling him that on the day they went to the bookstore together.

A sudden feeling of sadness washed over Arthur and seemed to cling to him. He usually felt like this when he was discussing something that was particularly upsetting to him. School was one of those things. Starting in middle school, when everyone wanted to be popular and get on all the sport teams, Arthur started to get bullied. It used to be the occasional tease or side-remark, but when one of the football players figured out that Arthur was gay, it turned physical. Yes, people were understanding at Eastview high, but there were those few… He hung his head slightly. No, he didn't want to go back.

"Arthur?" Alfred's voice was soft and patient, as if he knew what Arthur was thinking about. "Are you okay?"

Arthur opened his mouth and was about to lie when he caught Alfred's gaze. His blue eyes were swimming with curiosity, as if he was trying to figure the Brit out. Arthur felt that he could tell Alfred anything and it would be okay. He wouldn't judge him, he would only be compassionate.

"I-I'm starting to feel depressed," the Brit confessed, looking away from Alfred. "I hate school with a passion and I'm not fond of going back." He ran a hand through his blond hair, tugging at it slightly. "It causes my anxiety to go through the roof and I'm always alone at school. Almost everyone is against me for some reason, and it's…it's…" Arthur had to pause to catch his breath. His heart was hammering violently in his chest and his head seemed to be closing in on itself.

God, what was wrong with him? He was about to have a panic attack just because he was _talking_ about school. The smallest touch against Arthur's pinkie finger made him snap his head down to stare at his hand. Alfred had hooked his pinkie finger around Arthur's. He looked up to stare at the American's face and noticed that he was looking at him with a small smile.

"If you sit up straight, it will help," he said. "Breathe in like you're smelling flowers, and breathe out like you're blowing out a candle."

Arthur wanted to snap at Alfred and tell him he knew what to do, but he couldn't. Alfred was only trying to help him. Again. Once again, Arthur was the one that needed saving. He listened to Alfred, however, and did what he was told. He took in a deep breath, as if he was smelling flowers, and then breathed out like he was blowing out a candle. Arthur did this five times before his heart finally went back to its normal beat.

He was actually surprised it worked that well. Arthur glanced at Alfred and squeezed his pinkie ever so slightly. "Thanks…"

"No problem!" Alfred looked up at the higher branches, and then, Arthur did the same. "Ever since I was a little kid, I've had awful panic attacks. I always thought someone was watching me or following me. I thought that someone might hurt Mom and Mattie. S-so, when I was fourteen, an extremely traumatic experience happened to me and I lost hold in almost everything, including my faith and some parts of my sanity." Alfred's voice grew quiet, and he lowered his head. Arthur found out he was doing the same thing, following Alfred's face with his eyes.

"I was diagnosed with PTSD a couple months later. I've been able to control it in time, but it's still there. A couple months ago, I had an awful panic attack at my old school and I know it scared a lot of people. My paranoia seemed to be back after that, and it was really bad. So, one thing led to another. Mom moved because she thought it would be better for everyone if we started over."

Arthur's heart was pounding for a whole different reason. Poor Alfred. "A-and is it better?"

Alfred gave Arthur a blinding white smile with all the sadness gone from his face. Instead, his smile was gentle and maybe even loving. "Yeah. It's definitely better."

Arthur thought his heart would stop beating.

* * *

Arthur gave Francis a grateful smile when he handed him a bottle of beer. "Thank you." Francis let out a long sigh and sat down next to him. "Anytime."

Francis had come back today while Arthur was out with Alfred. Now, the sun was setting and the clouds had turned purple. The two of them were sitting on Francis's roof, which they were able to get to without falling to their doom. Arthur really appreciated that Francis was kind enough to talk to him even though he was jet-lagged.

"So, did I miss a lot while I was away?" Francis asked.

"You missed this huge monster come, swallow up the whole town, and then spit it back up."

"Oh, darn it!"

Arthur chuckled and took a swig of the bitter alcohol. It was one of his ways of escaping, alcohol was. The Brit ran a hand through his blonde hair and looked up at the indigo sky. "You'll never guess who my group therapist is."

Francis arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow. "Oh? And who might that be?"

"Gilbert Beilschmidt."

Francis was quiet for a moment. Arthur was worried that he had said something wrong, especially when he turned to look at his friend and Francis turned away. "Gilbert Beilschmidt…funny." The Frenchman tilted his head back as he took a long swig of his own beer. When he had finished, he wiped his mouth slightly. "I haven't heard from him in a while."

Francis was a year older then Arthur, and Gilbert was a year older then Francis. Arthur didn't know much about their friendship except that the two of them, along with a Spaniard named Antonio, had been very close. But when Gilbert graduated, Arthur hadn't heard the two of them talk about the albino. Perhaps they had a fight or something.

Before Arthur could say anything more, Francis cleared his throat. "Who is in your group? Anyone we know?"

"Uh, there's Lovino Vargas and Ivan Braginski. Then there are three other people named Lukas, Kiku, and Lili." A small blush dusted Arthur's cheeks when he remembered the last group member. "And there's a new boy here named Alfred Jones."

Francis smirked at Arthur and poked his shoulder. "Alfred, eh? Hmm, I might have to meet the man that can make Arthur Kirkland blush just with the mere mention of his name!" Arthur blushed even more and swatted the hand away. "Belt up, frog!"

"No need to get all defensive about this~." Francis took another sip of his beer. When he spoke again, his voice was serious yet soft. "You know, Arthur. You deserve to be happy in this world, too. Certain people can give you that happiness, but you have to be careful."

Arthur narrowed his eyes slightly. What was he saying? "What do you-"

Francis interrupted him. "Happiness could be right in front of you, Arthur." He leaned over and pecked Arthur on the cheek. The Brit was so surprised that he nearly dropped his beer bottle. "You just have to open your eyes and realize that."

Arthur was at a lose of words. Was Francis trying to imply that he could be Arthur's happiness? But Francis already made him happy; he was his best friend! Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Francis picked himself up and crawled back through the window. "If you don't mind, I would like to get to sleep. Jet-lag can be such an…inconvenience."

Arthur jumped up a little too fast and ended up slipping. Once he caught himself, he crawled through the window as well. He left the beer in Francis's room and quickly left the house. He didn't say hello to Allistor when he walked in, he just went straight up to his room. His mind was whirling and it was beginning to make his head ache.

His phone was vibrating on his desk, and he slowly made his was to it. It was Alfred. His eyes shot up in surprise when he read the text. **Alfred: I had a great time w/ u 2day! Hope we can do that again :)**

Suddenly, Arthur felt torn. Was he going to be replacing Francis with Alfred? His heart seemed to split slightly, but he decided to push those unwanted feelings down. Instead, he texted Alfred and told him how atrocious his hand-writing was and no wonder he wasn't taking DE English.

Perhaps, for the moment, everything would be okay. He could act like a normal teenager with Alfred, no matter how strange the boy made him feel.

* * *

 _A/N: Thank you all for reading this chapter! I might not update until another week because of end of the year testing. Yeah, I'm stressing. But thank you all.  
_


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